


Progress

by the_rogue_of_freud



Series: Disembodied [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Other, in which roxy lalonde is more than her problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rogue_of_freud/pseuds/the_rogue_of_freud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laments on life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progress

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written anything specifically about roxy, and i am not necessarily knowledgeable about the ins and outs of addiction and/or alcoholism, so if i get anything wrong, tell me and i'll try and amend it!! ok cool thanks

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you are sick of it.

You are sick of all of your friends constantly fawning over you, even though you really do appreciate it.  
You are sick of the fact that you are stranded in the middle of the ocean, on a carapacian colony, with nary a human in sight.  
But most of all, you are sick of the bottle that sits, half-empty, next to you.

You hate these bottles with a burning passion. They are the bane of your existence, your one weakness against the world. They were left here by your mother, forgotten keepsakes of imbibement and freedom, glass receptacles just waiting to be taken. And you did, without a second thought. Was it a passing thought, that a long-lost relative would leave them here just for you, or was it your own teenage curiosity concerning the drink?

You don’t know, and you aren’t sure if you truly want to know the answer.

What you do know is that you are better than this. That you are not defined by such an addiction, such a chain on your life.

Your friend Dirk texts you, the only other person you know of that lives in the same sorry existence as you, or in the same timeframe at least. 

~~ timaeusTestifed [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 12: 40 PM ~~  
TT: Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?  
TG: heya dirk i was just about to text you  
TG: raining awfuly hard, what a shame that is  
TG: fucking citizens of this town getting drechned  
TG: id invite them in but i need space to breathe  
TG: cant very well have all of everyone living in my goddamn house!  
TT: Maybe you should take up umbrella making?  
TT: Give them away for free at the local Pumpkin Sale.  
TT: Buy one pumpkin, get one umbrella free.  
TG: im not gonna capitalize off of pumpkins you ass  
TG: oh shit here is a hord of them now!  
TG: hang on

You have pause, the scent of petrichor assaulting your nose as the knocks on your door turn to sharp raps, and then pounds. You scavenge your household, looking for the orange gourds the locals seem to adore. 

Then again, it is all you are able to muster out here, with the help of your appearifier. Grabbing one, you give it to the nearest carapacian --prospitian, with rags so dirty you feel sad that the rain isn’t just washing them away-- and slowly close the door. That is all you have to offer right now; your uranium supply is running low. 

TG: the carapacians  
TG: they all looked so sad, maybe becuase of the rain  
TG: i gave them all some spare pumpkins though  
TG: one day… the umbrellas will HAPPEN!!  
TT: You go.  
TG: thanks dstri  
TG: now on to more prsseing matters  
TG: what in the hell is going on with you on this fine ass day  
TG: in which it is raining like a fucking shitstorm of a barrage  
TG: water missiles  
TT: Nothing much, honestly.  
TT: Just admiring the rain like some sort of poetic asshole.  
TT: How it churns the sea like some vast pot of butter.  
TT: How the waves rise and crash on the metal framework of my house.  
TT: Oh, the water slaps the walls of my humble abode.  
TT: But no need to dive into some sort of ramble.  
TT: What should we discuss?  
TT: The discourse of chums.  
TG: what kinf of a bs answer si that  
TG: what even is the discourse  
TT: Shit man, I don’t know. We can only talk about the intensity of the rain for so long.  
TG: yeah i guess youre right ab out that  
TT: You okay? You’re misspelling an awful lot of words.  
TT: Are you bruising for booze again?  
TG: shit howd you guess  
TG: fuckin hidden and sneaky as shit  
TG: like a goddamned ninja ready to POUNCE ON MY ASS  
TT: No ass pouncing here, my friend.  
TT: Set the alcohol down, take a nap.  
TT: ugh fine but only because youre my bes t bud and its prefct sleepin weather  
TG: sweet dreams timaeus  
~~tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 1:11 PM ~~  
TT: See you later.

Tossing your phone on your desk, you flop on your bed, arms askew and hanging half-over. A quick yell into your pillow-- why do your friends care about you so much? You can handle this, it’s in your control.

Another look at the bottle, and you know it’s a lie. It’s been out of your hands since the day you started.  
Maybe you should stop.  
Maybe you should stop being so sick of the booze and finally conquer it.  
One day.  
It will happen.  
You fall into an uneasy doze, anxious and tense. 

Dreams of purple swirl through your mind.


End file.
